


Get Rid of the Evidence

by BlastHardcheese



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 07:42:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1379470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlastHardcheese/pseuds/BlastHardcheese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will and Zeller have to work late on a tedious project which sucks until it turns into lab table sex.</p>
<p>(This isn't fluffy and may be kind of depressing? Just so you know.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Rid of the Evidence

**Author's Note:**

> I needed more Will/Zeller in my life so I just broke down and wrote some.  
> I am also really bad at titles and summaries.

Will staggered up his front steps. He had driven home with the radio turned way up and the air conditioning blowing right in his face. It just seemed like the smart thing to do, because he kind of wanted to throw up and pass out. He felt, well, not better but calmer now. He still felt this cold emptiness inside. It was settling down into his stomach.

He let the dogs out. Then back in. He was torn between lying down and taking a shower. He compromised by lying down in the shower with a glass of whiskey. It was difficult to find the right way to lie that didn’t hurt, but then again he just sort of hurt in general. He had hoped that hurting would replace the emptiness and at least that would be a change, but it didn’t, the sensations were just layered now. It was miserable. Maybe the whiskey would do the trick. He took a big gulp.

\--

There was a case. Jack wanted Will to look at all these different pieces of evidence in the lab. Everything had been thoroughly inspected and cataloged, but there must have been forty baggies with various things in them. A toothbrush, a comb, a discarded water bottle, a knife. Will asked if someone from the lab could stay late with him to sort all of it out. Price was out the door before he had finished making his request. Beverly said she had promised to drive a friend to the airport in the wee hours, so she couldn’t stay. Zeller was noncommittal. Will just stared at him through his glasses like a disappointed librarian until Zeller gave in with a good deal of exasperation. Bev helped lay all the pieces out on one of the slabs and gave Zeller a sharp look before she left. 

It took an hour to get through fifteen items. Will was trying to sort them by where they were found in the room and Zeller was reciting what was found on each object from the initial forensics report. He kept making suggestions that Will immediately dismissed. At this point Will was certain Zeller was just doing it to annoy him.

Half of these things were going to prove to be utterly useless. Will leaned on his elbows on a nearby lab table. He rubbed his face and stared intently at a picture of the crime scene, running through different scenarios, trying to figure out which of these things might not need to be included in this lengthy process. This was so tedious. He looked over his shoulder at Zeller who was blatantly staring at his posterior.

“Are you staring at my ass?” Will asked calmly.

“What? No. I was looking at the--,” Zeller pointed with his pencil at nothing in particular. “No.”

Will wasn’t sure he believed him so he just gave him a bewildered look before going back to the pictures.

Half an hour later they got in a fight about the importance of the toothbrush. Zeller was adamant that it was completely useless since there was nothing out of the ordinary in the report. Will thought that a toothbrush that hadn’t been used for any purpose other than cleaning teeth that was seemingly untouched in an otherwise completely chaotic scene in a living room might be worth keeping as evidence until it could be further scrutinized. Zeller countered by reading the report out again in a slow, loud voice that made Will want to strangle him. It was probably the dumbest disagreement he had gotten into in the lab.

“I don’t think we need the coasters,” Will stated as an attempt to get them back on track. It was pushing midnight and he really wanted to get this over with.

"So, we're keeping the toothbrush, why not the coasters?"

"They aren't important. There's nothing remarkable about them." Will was beyond exasperated.

Zeller looked at him like he was crazy. "They do have a ton of blood on them. You don't find that interesting at all?"

“No,” Will insisted, throwing up his hands. “I don't want to go through the minutiae of my thought process. Jack asked me to get this done. He doesn't care how, just as long as it's done right.”

“Hey, you're the one who asked me to stay.” From his tone, Zeller’s usual passive annoyance with Will was giving way to real irritation. 

“I didn't ask for you to be difficult the whole damn time,” Will snapped back. He folded his arms indignantly and leaned back on the lab table in a huff.

Zeller dropped his clipboard on the slab with a resounding clatter. "I'm the difficult one?" He moved toward Will pointing at himself to punctuate his point, totally indignant. " _I'm_ difficult."

"Get out of my face," Will said through gritted teeth.

“I'm not in your face,” Zeller said, matter-of-fact. He took a couple of steps forward so he was uncomfortably close to Will. He smiled sarcastically. “Now I'm in your face.”

He was wrong. _This_ was the stupidest argument he’d ever gotten into in the lab. Total high school shit. Will closed his eyes and bit his lip trying to keep his aggravation from bursting out of him. “Just--” was all he got out before being silenced with a forceful, ardent kiss. It took him a moment to process that Zeller was in fact the one kissing him. He should shove him away and storm out or politely back away and explain how he’s not really interested. But he didn’t. 

“Do you know how difficult it is to work with you?" Zeller asked as he reached up, gently pulled off Will’s glasses, and put them on the table. Will gave a diminutive shake of his head. Tentatively, Zeller put his hand on Will’s face and ran his thumb over his slightly parted lips. “It's so fucking frustrating.” 

This time Will pulled him in and crushed their lips together with vulgar desperation. This was a bad idea. He ran his fingers through Zeller’s hair. Zeller moved down to Will’s neck, from his jaw line to his collarbone, fervently kissing and sucking, probably leaving marks all over him. Will let his head loll back. This really was a bad idea.

He still hadn’t quite made up his mind as to whether he was going to leave or stay. There was this uneasy nothingness that was always with him, brought on by his feelings of isolation from everyone around him and his fear of abandonment that wouldn’t allow him to be close to anyone. Abandonment required expectation, he had said. There were no expectations in this situation and that was comforting. The nothingness was being temporarily edged out.

Zeller was working on unfastening Will’s belt and pants with one hand. After a bit of fumbling Will reached down to help him and smiled crookedly.

“Does this mean you were checking me out earlier?” Will queried in his cheekiest tone.

“Guilty,” Zeller breathed in his ear. He slid his hand from the small of Will’s back into his pants and grabbed his ass.

Will drew in a sharp breath. He could feel the other man’s growing erection against his thigh. He bit his lip and stared at the ceiling for a moment. “Do you want to fuck me?” he asked, blunt, almost lazily.

Zeller carefully pulled back to study Will’s face which was resolute and flushed pink. “Do you want me to?”

He nodded. 

“Stay here,” Zeller mumbled and purposefully walked off. 

Will pulled off his plaid shirt, leaving his white undershirt on but carelessly scrunched up around his waist. He leaned over the lab table, his undone belt buckle clacking against the side, as he looked at the crime scene pictures again. What the fuck was he doing. Was he really this starved for physical contact? But he really wasn’t that upset with himself or even surprised. Maybe this was just the next step in his eventual self-destruction. Right now he couldn’t muster enough energy to be concerned about thinking so darkly. He buried his face in his hands. Oh well.

He knew Zeller was standing behind him but he didn’t move or look up. After a minute Zeller moved in closer and put something on the table. Will glanced over without moving his head. Some Vaseline. That was thoughtful. Zeller ran a hand up his spine into his hair and back down before tugging Will’s pants over the swell of his rear end. 

Will was about to ask what was taking so long when Zeller slowly pressed a slick digit against his opening. His question burst out as an “Ah!” that faded into a low groan. He dipped his head as his partner pushed in deeper. Zeller put his other hand on Will’s bare waist. When he added a second finger Will realized Zeller was wearing a latex glove. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the cool metal of the table, imagining how they would look to someone walking in. Him lying there disheveled, ass out and Zeller in full work attire methodically fingering him. The vivid image he conjured made a loud moan escape from his lips and he pushed back on Zeller’s hand. Zeller took it as encouragement to pick up the pace. 

“Okay,” Will stammered against the table. He propped himself up on his elbows, nodding almost involuntarily, repeating, “Okay.” He hoped his meaning could be understood but he couldn’t form more complex words. Zeller had been steadily sliding three fingers in and out of him, curling and spreading them without warning and eliciting all sorts of interesting quiet noises from Will. They slowed to a stop now and hesitantly slid out. Will put his head back down on the table as he heard Zeller unzip his pants. Though he was trying to relax this was still going to hurt and he kind of hoped it would. He wanted to feel grounded. He wanted to feel something new.

There was a soft smack that had to be the used glove hitting the floor. Zeller murmured a string of obscenities while he eased inside him. He was bigger than Will expected, making him stifle a cry as Zeller sank into him to the hilt. He pinned Will completely prone on the table with his hands on his wrists and began pulling out and pushing back in vigorously. Will rocked his hips with each rough thrust despite the tears he could feel collecting in his closed eyes. Zeller shoved up Will’s shirt, pressing messy kisses to his back as he fucked him. Maybe they were supposed to be reassuring. Will wanted this-- _needed_ this--as unhealthy and perverse as it sounded, and he didn’t really care if Zeller was taking advantage of him. 

His mind was blissfully blank. Behind him, Zeller was whispering filthy things against his skin about how tight he was, how good he felt, how he was going to fuck him so hard he wouldn’t be able to walk. Will clenched his jaw and tried to keep back the small sighing noises he was making in the back of his throat as his breathing grew labored. His hands scrabbled against the table but Zeller’s hold on his wrists just grew firmer. 

A particularly harsh thrust provoked an embarrassingly pornographic whimper from Will. Zeller groaned and drove back into him drawing out another loud gasping moan. The rhythm was unrelenting. Will’s vision blurred. He tried to focus on the sensation of the lab coat lightly brushing his exposed thighs or the way Zeller’s breath fell heavy and hot on his back, occasionally accompanied by a coherent expletive. It was no good. He was coming apart.

Will broke Zeller’s hold on one of his wrists and guided his hand down to his neglected erection. It only took a few strong strokes before Will was coming in spurts across the front of the lab table with a broken cry, hips bucking. Zeller slid his other hand up Will's chest under his shirt and held the other man against him as he rode out his orgasm. Will shuddered as he limply lay back down on the table. Zeller dug his fingers into Will’s hips and pumped into his spent body at the same exhausting speed as before. Finally, Zeller came inside him with a last, breathy, drawn out, “Fuck.”

He was a mess. Will pulled up his pants and fastened them before trying to stand up. He was shaking and disoriented the way he was after analyzing bad crime scenes of late. His racing heartbeat was thundering in his ears. Maybe he was going to pass out. That’d be even more embarrassing than everything that just happened. He felt Zeller steady him with an arm around his waist. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, putting the palm of his hand on Will’s forehead, his fingers brushing his damp curls. Will gave a slight nod. He really wanted Zeller to kiss him.

Instead he let go of him and asked if Will needed help getting to his car in a tone usually reserved for the elderly and strangers struggling with their groceries. Whatever had happened between them was over. This would never happen again and they would never speak of it. Zeller could go back to detesting him and Will could go back to ignoring him. Business as usual. How convenient.

“Shouldn’t we get rid of the evidence?” Will responded hoarsely.

“I’ll do that. You should go home,” Zeller insisted. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Will smiled as best he could. “I’m fine.”


End file.
